


Your Sire Be Damned

by AndromedaPrime



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: M/M, Mech Preg, Sparklings, past Ultra Magnus/Wheeljack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4190178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndromedaPrime/pseuds/AndromedaPrime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day would come that he would have to tell her the truth. And he hoped he would be ready to tell her on that day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Sire Be Damned

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot inspired by [this](http://andromedaprime.tumblr.com/post/127513792035/rayearthmagic-dragonasisart-%D1%8F-%D0%BF%D1%80%D0%BE%D0%B4%D0%BE%D0%BB%D0%B6%D0%B0%D1%8E-%D1%82%D0%B5%D0%BC%D1%83) piece of work that got the gears turning in my brain. I had entertained the notion of writing something of his nature for a while, but that picture just... yes. I approve.

“When will you tell her?”

She was so small and perfect, and Magnus had a hard time grasping the fact that he had borne this beautiful little femme from his own frame. Her spark had orbited around his for almost an entire stellar cycle, feeding off his spark energy to form her own consciousness, while the little protoform had forged itself from minerals and nutrients provided by the energon he took in while in the midst of his carrying cycle. He had cried out in pain as his abdominal plates shifted and opened to bring the gestation chamber forward and eject the tiny protoform he now cradled in his arms.

She was a perfect little femme. He would do anything for her. He was determined to protect her from anything that might harm her. Mentally, physically, emotionally. For as long as he could protect her, she would know no pain.

He gently prodded her little fists, curled up to her chassis, with his index digit. His spark soared when she reacted by opening her mouth in a yawn and loosening her fist so she could wrap her tiny servo around his finger.

Ultra Magnus finally looked up at Ratchet next to his berth, datapad in the medic’s silver servos, the other mech’s normally stern optics softened in expression as he looked down at the little white and blue femmeling in the Autobot Commander’s arms. “Does she need to know?”

There was the sound of the medic sighing in frustration and placing one of his servos over his faceplates. “At some point she will ask, Ultra Magnus. Sparklings and younglings are curious little balls of energy, and they are very insistent. She will ask you who her sire is.”

“When I am ready, I will tell her about him.”

“And what if you aren’t ready to tell her?”

Silence settled in the private room, the only sounds those of the spark monitors keeping Ratchet informed of the spark rates of the new carrier and the new sparkling. The medic didn’t miss how Ultra Magnus’s optics darted down to the little femme and how the Commander’s servos curled closer to her frame, tightening his grip on her ever so slightly.

“She will ask you one day,” Ratchet repeated quietly. “And she will not take “no” or “not now” for an answer, if she is anything like either of her creators. She will ask, and ask, and ask until she gets a straight answer. And she will want it from you more than any other bot she could ask.”

“Then I will have to be ready the day she asks.”

Ratchet exvented a heavy sigh, thinking of the last time they had seen the white-armored Wrecker. Ultra Magnus had to stay strong as they watched the _Jackhammer_ leave Cybertron. _“Too painful”_ Wheeljack had said while looking over at Magnus averting his gaze. “ _Need to get off planet to clear my processor, and search for other mechs and femmes that need a way back home.”_

A noble journey they all had thought. So did Ultra Magnus, admittedly. But when he discovered that little spark happily skipping in his aura he cursed Wheeljack’s timing.

He had tried once to contact the _Jackhammer,_ but it was out of range. Either it was really out of range, or Wheeljack was just ignoring him.

“I hope for your sake that you are ready when she asks.” Ratchet tapped twice on the datapad and put in a passcode, handing the brightly-lit pad to Ultra Magnus. The blue and red mech held his newspark in one arm and grasped the pad with the other, listening as Ratchet said, “Put your name where it belongs.”

“And where do I put his designation?”

“Don’t put it in. Legally I cannot let you input his designation.”

“Legally? Why can’t I-”

“I currently don’t possess any genetic coding from Wheeljack to compare hers to. I can confirm without a doubt, through genetic coding and the fact that I can still hear your cries of pain _ringing_ in my audio receptors, that you are her carrier. Proving who her sire is will be much trickier with his current absence.”

“Even if I sign an oath swearing that he is the only mech I have interfaced with in the past hundreds of stellar cycles?”

“Even so.”

Ultra Magnus’s grip on the datapad tightened. Ratchet saw him blink back optical fluid, forcing it back down as he input his name on the line where it said “Carrier’s Designation”.

The line preceded by “Sire’s Designation” was left blank.

“Did you ever think of a name for her?” Ratchet asked, faintly nodding at the sparkling curled up against her carrier’s chassis.

Magnus’s digit was still in her grip. For one so small, she was so strong. Strong servos, strong arms.

“Strongarm.” He placed his helm crest against her helm crest with its chevrons on each side, and gave her a faint smile that she could not see. “Strongarm. That will be your designation.”

The little femme opened her optics and blinked them at her carrier. She had her sire’s optics.

No matter where he turned, Wheeljack would always be with him. Magnus would have been upset if he didn’t love this little femme with all his spark.

He closed his optics and kissed her forehelm. “Your sire be damned, I will do everything in my power to raise you on my own. And I hope that the day you ask who he is, that I will be ready to tell you.”

The sparkling made no noise, and only lifted a servo to pat at his faceplates.


End file.
